Night Falls
by Kollick
Summary: A druid is on a mission to seek justice (or is it revenge) on a party of poachers for their crimes against nature. {Reviews are appreciated, and ideas are considered for the next tale.}


Kellnoran

The dried and burning dirt was beginning to wear down his already hardened paws. It had been thousands of years since he last trekked these lands, and much had changed since but determination for the task at hand kept him running.

He had caught the scent of the party, and had been catching up to them for a few days now. The odors came from several Orc and a canine of some sort. The tracks matched those of 3 warriors and a hunter.

The horde warriors had killed a dragoness and stole the nest of 3 eggs. He was running after the prey for two reasons. First would be to bring back any of the eggs he could if any were still intact. Second he would bring justice to these killers for murdering the dragon protecting the nest. However his priority was the eggs because if they are still unharmed the horde will most likely incubate them and raise the dragons to fight for them.

Night had fallen, and the party was camped by an oasis and eating over a fire when Kellnoran finally caught up with them. As he quietly approached calculating his plan of attack, the night colored fur on his back stood at attention. A fanged sneer spread across his whiskered face.

In the bushes a distance away from the group there was a straggler answering natures call. The cat was now in front of the busy orc, and before the drunken warrior realized what was about to happen to him, the cat pounced. Too intoxicated to even shout for help the grunt passed on quietly as the druid raked at his chest and face.

Subtlety and stealth were impossible for the remaining trio. The druid's body began to retake the shape he was born with as he approached them. All three of the orc dropped their food, stopped laughing, and stood up with looks of anger when the elf stepped into the light of the fire.

"Let's end your already short lives you green filth. Shall we?"

Although young, they knew the druids intentions and with that said, they picked up their weapons and charged the lone challenger.

Kell held an open hand up to the first one to rush in, a lightly armored warrior clad in leather. In moments the orc was bathed in the light of the moon and his body was engulfed in blinding fire. The screaming Orc ran a couple of steps in random directions of panic before collapsing lifelessly to the earth. His passing was quick and easy.

The next victim came head on swinging his large, half serrated war axe for the druid's head. Kell dropped to a knee avoiding the axe, and unslung his staff. The orc warrior wasn't skilled but he was strong and fast with his weapon. Already the axe was headed for the elf's torso, but the druid blocked and whirled the staff full force into the orcs partially open mouth breaking most of the warrior's teeth. Despite his inexperience, the grunt had discipline and remained focused on the enemy ignoring the pain in his mouth.

As the bleeding warrior stepped back to regain composure, his remaining partner joined his side. Both were now fully aware of the threat that stood before them. This was no sleeping dragon, and with the element of surprise turned on them, they were already down two fighters. Now their lives were in grave danger and regret for accepting this mission was settling in.

Rojal and I looked at each other trying to find an answer to the question in both of our minds. How were we going to bring down the night elf? Grantek'jen was now dead and smoldering on the floor not 20 feet from where we stood, and we had to act fast before the elf could regain the strength to do the same to us.

"LOGTHAR OGAR!" was the battle cry that Rojal belted out as he again charged the elf. The words were butchered with his teeth being smashed out, but I knew what he meant. With the brave words echoing in my head filling my blood and bones with strength I ran in to aid him. Just imagine what those at home would say if we brought back the skull of a dragon and the head of a night elf.

Rojal brought his axe down on the elf but the alliance rat deflected it with his staff. Some how, instead of ripping the weapon in half, the axe barely dented the elven wood. Following Rojal's attack the elf brought his weapon down and around swiping Rojal's feet from under him slamming the heavy warrior into the floor.

Before the purple scum could finish my dazed friend I swung my mace for his back and my morning star for his face. But like lightning he delivered the point of his staff to my armored chest sending me back about 6 feet away. I got up painfully to see Rojal again engaged with the elf. I sat up and muttered "where in Azeroth is that damned Laynon?" before getting up to rejoin Rojal in combat.

He was an amazing fighter especially for such a frail looking piece of meat. As far as skill goes he could easily be compared to those in the horde with at least 17 years experience over Rojal and I. He seemed to avoid and parry half of our attacks. The other half of our attacks barely grazed his hardened leather armor.

Just as I was thinking we stood no chance what so ever the elf began to slow down. Each block or evasion brought him closer to being hit and the margin was closing fast because we were landing more and more blows. "He's TIRING!" I shouted to Rojal, and we both quickened our rhythm. Despite the experience he had over us he wasn't built and trained for this kind of combat. Sensing the moment had come I yelled "I call HIGH you take LOW"

I brought both my weapons heavily down for his shoulders and he stopped them with his staff but at the same time Rojal swung his axe for the druids now exposed midsection. The blow landed hard finally cutting through the armor. Although it didn't go deep enough to mortally wound him he was now bleeding and badly at that. The elf stumbled backward holding a hand to his stomach. But before we even got to be happy about critically injuring the elf, what seemed like stranglethorn vines busted through the ground entangling Rojal.

My heart sank as I saw the angry roots hold him while the thorns ripped and tore at his flesh. "RUN brother!" Rojal shouted to me but we both new better. For both of us that was too late. "I said RUN Nol'tenthak!" was the last thing he shouted before a root punctured his stomach and ended Rojals life.

The elf and I turned attention to each other and I realized, I would soon join my friends and my brother. The elf was out of breath and panting like a dog but now there was fire in his eyes, literally.

I remembered the teachings of my father. "Never wait for death Nol'tenthak. Never run from death Nol'tenthak. Better to keep your honor than to lose it AND your life, for when death is truly upon you, you will know and there will be nothing you can do. So remember, always bring the fight to your foe and the day you die, will be the day you've lived." I gripped my weapons and ran at the rat with all the speed I could bring into myself. Watery eyed, I looked up and saw him take a stance. Like a demon his eyes flared and he shot from his hands green nether that twisted through the air and bit me in the chest. My feet flew up and my back hit the ground.

As the world grew dim I heard a familiar roar. I turned my head to our tent and saw Laynon emerge. '_Laynon. It's about time you bovine_' was the last thing I thought before the darkness took me.

Kell began to feel remorse as the last orc died. He could sense something about that one that just made it hard to end his life. But before he could contemplate what had just happened anymore, a roar coming from the tent split the air as a large Tauren emerged from inside. By the looks of it this was a shaman and less of a veteran than Kell, but he had seen much more war than the others had judging by the look in his eyes. "The animal tracks" Kell said realizing what the paw prints belonged to. He cursed himself for not preparing for the possibility of a shaman or a druid. _'Pull yourself together Kell, he's not that big'_

The shaman was wielding a steel club and heavily armored in leather nearly matching his own in quality. In his drained state Kell would not win a fight to the death with this tauren.

With out another word Kell transformed into the aspect of a dire bear and charged into his foe. The shaman took a lower stance to brace for the impact about to happen. When bear and bull collided the ground shook and both had the wind knocked out of them. The druid kept pushing through the tackle and was slowly gaining ground on the slightly weaker shaman _'Just a few more feet, I can smell those eggs'_ but the tauren held the bear in an electrical grip and kept pushing back until he felt what he knew was the tent brush against his tail. It was then that Laynon realized the elf bear was not biting or scratching because he only wanted to get into the tent.

Laynon now knew his opponent didn't have the energy for a full fight so he decided to take a gamble. Despite the bears waning strength, Laynon pushed himself back and off the bear putting about a foot and a half between the two. Kell pushed through that extra ground the tauren just gave him but once he closed the gap, the bulls club came crashing down on his head splitting his vision and filling his head with a high pitched ringing sound. The icy impact dazed him and pushed him to the floor for just a second. As Kell got back up the side of his face was bashed in by the club shattering half of his teeth. Now Kell knew how Rojal felt. The Taurens next swing would have easily killed or at least knocked out Kell if he didn't shrink back into an elf at the last second, totally avoiding the attack. Laynons club cracked into the ground and he lost balance in the force of his missed swing dropping him to the floor.

Kell was badly beaten, but was at last inside the tent. As the hulking shaman was getting back to his feet, the druid jumped at the eggs, and put them into his pack.

_'Please don't faint, you won't wake up'_, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. He saw a totem now manifested in the shamans arms and knew he could not stay to get the mothers skull, so he assumed his travel form. The bull slammed the totem into the ground to stop the druid from making an escape but the black spotted yellow fur cat was already gone in a blur.

The next morning the druid was tending his wounds over a bowl of moon berry juice and bread when he heard movement from his travel pouch. When he opened it the eggs inside were still. "You'll be hatching into this cruel world soon young ones, let's get you to the others first so you at least stand a chance of survival". So he closed the pouch and began to finish his food. "We'll leave in an hour, I need rest".

Standing on a mountain over looking the camp where the elf ate was a pack of ghost wolves. The elf was their prey. He killed four Orc when they were so close to home. If he could have things his way, the elf will have the same privilege of dieing close to home. But for now Laynon decided, the druid will get his rest. And so the pack moved on towards Kell at the bull wolfs lead.


End file.
